1 мин
Слушать(AI)England
Praise thou with praise unending, The Master of the Wine;
To all their portions sending Himself he mingled thine:
The sea-born flush of morning, The sea-born hush of night,
The East wind comfort scorning, And the North wind driving right:
The world for gain and giving, The game for man and boy,
The life that joys in living, The faith that lives in joy.
Sir Henry Newbolt
Sir Henry John Newbolt, CH (6 June 1862 – 19 April 1938) was an English poet, novelist and historian. He is perhaps best remembered for his poem
Комментарии
Вам нужно войти , чтобы оставить комментарий
Другие работы автора
In July
His beauty bore no token, No sign our gladness shook; With tender strength unbroken The hand of Life he took: But the summer flowers were falling, Falling and fading away, And mother birds were calling, Crying and calling For their ...
Drakes Drum
Drake he's in his hammock an' a thousand miles away, (Capten, art tha sleepin' there below ) Slung atween the round shot in Nombre Dios Bay, An' dreamin' arl the time O' Plymouth Hoe Yarnder lumes the Island, yarnder lie the ships,
San Stefano
(A Ballad of the Bold Menelaus)It was morning at St Helen's, in the great and gallant days, And the sea beneath the sun glittered wide, When the frigate set her courses, all a-shimmer in the haze And she hauled her cable home and took th...
The Volunteer
He leap to arms unbidden, Unneeded, over-bold; His face by earth is hidden, His heart in earth is cold
